


A Descent into the Maelstrom

by A_Stressed_Cupcake



Series: Sanders Sides Beetlejuice AU [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Dead Logic | Logan Sanders, Dead Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit is a widower, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's the Beetlejuice AU though so don't worry, Married Logicality - Freeform, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Parent Deceit | Janus Sanders, Parent Morality | Patton Sanders, Patton says trans rights, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Stressed_Cupcake/pseuds/A_Stressed_Cupcake
Summary: (warning: because this refers to an existing AU, Janus's name will be Damien in this one. Or is it?  :)  )Damien finds Patton chilling outside during a storm.He's feeling rather talkative.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, minor Logicality - Relationship
Series: Sanders Sides Beetlejuice AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491563
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	A Descent into the Maelstrom

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Again, Deceit's name is Damien here, I'm sorry but I wrote the rest of the AU way before the name reveal :,)  
> 2\. I suggest looking through the rest of the AU fics first, as this references it. In case you don't want to, no worries, I will list important info in the end notes :)  
> If you do want to read the other AU fics, though, I suggest doing that first. This fic contains spoilers.  
> 3\. Sort of a prequel to an upcoming fic. I will not elaborate.

The howl of the wind outside was not reassuring. He had developed an almost Pavlovian reaction to storms by that point, after years of scrambling to cover little Virgil’s ears with headphones before he could hear the first crack of thunder and start crying. He’d stopped doing that at around ten years old, but the instinct had never quite gone away. So as a result, he couldn’t sleep, because of course he couldn’t.

He decided to sit at the window and watch the lightning outside. Logically, he should be afraid of that too; less logically, he wasn’t, because at least lightning was pretty to look at and didn’t make the windows tremble like they were going to burst. It was only after a particularly bright flash that he could see someone standing in the shadow of the porch. The light was gone too quickly to tell who it was, but either way, he had half a mind to open the door and tell them to go to sleep. Or, you know, leave. Depending on who it was.

He limped to the door with a heavy sigh. It was still locked, so they were either one of the Maitlands or a complete stranger.

He glanced through the peephole. The sky blue polo was immediately recognizable. He opened the door and a gust of wet wind immediately hit him square in the face. His scar would hurt later and he knew that  _ very _ well.

“What are you doing out here?” he called out. 

Patton seemed to snap out of a trance at the sound of his voice and turned around, but it took a moment before the lost look in his eyes came  _ close _ to expressing recognition. 

“Mr Webb!” he greeted with a friendly wave, “I don’t think you should be outside, sir.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Oh, I’m just here to  _ brainstorm _ !” he quipped, but he seemed less chipper than usual. Realizing that Damien wasn’t going to laugh, he let out a nervous chuckle himself and turned back to the raging wind: “I can’t exactly catch a cold.” 

What Damien said next didn’t come from any logical part of his brain. It came from some secret side of him that had told him to do pretty much exactly the same thing that Patton was doing now.

“But you’re trying to.”

Patton shivered.  _ Actually  _ shivered. “I don’t get it.” he said, and that was somewhere between a lie and mere wishful thinking, judging by the way his eyes shifted.

“You can’t feel the cold.” he started, joining the ghost out on the porch, storm be damned. “No matter how much you want to. Is that it?”

His glasses weren’t clouded or spattered with rain. The rain was lashing violently against the porch and against both of them, cold and unpleasant, but it barely phased him. There was something in his eyes, a reflection of a deep wound that hadn’t scarred, and boy did he know about scars. He sat on the steps down the porch (as far as Patton could go) and waited for him to answer. It took him about thirty seconds.

“It’s not exactly that.” he admitted, “I just… I used to hate storms. But they’re not as scary now. I used to go out there in the garden when I was upset, and now I can’t do that either. Everything is different. And I’m probably colder than the rain could ever make me.”

He almost instinctively held his hand out to Damien, but recoiled before he could actually touch it.

“Sorry.” he laughed, and it looked like he meant it. The apology, not the laugh. The laugh was decidedly fake.

The fact that the apology was genuine meant that he was apologizing for something and, for the life of him, Damien couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. So he just asked: “Why are you apologizing?”

“It’s silly.” he replied, “I mean, I… look, I’m sorry. You’ve had it so much worse than me and I shouldn’t… yeah, sorry. You should probably-”

“Go back to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Not yet.”

Patton made a distressed noise: “I don’t want you to catch a cold. Virgil said your nose gets really bad when you have a cold.”

“I’m in no hurry.” he shrugged, knowing very well what he was doing.

“Now, kiddo. It’s no good to catch a cold on purpose.” he scolded, nervously.

Patton was officially trapped. He couldn’t go any further than the porch and he couldn’t go back inside on his own unless he wanted to leave him all alone in the storm.

“I just want to know something from you first.”

“Yes?” the ghost inquired, an octave higher than usual.

"Why do you say I've had it worse than you? I'm not dead."

Patton's smile fell completely.

"There are things worse than death." he simply stated, staring listlessly at the wooden planks that made up the porch. "We should probably call maintenance." he mumbled, frowning at the holes and moss on the wood.

"Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't trying to." he said, earnestly: "I just… have to say whatever comes to mind sometimes. You know? And I figured you're probably the best person to say this to, because the house is technically yours now."

"Legally, yes."

"So I thought, you know, if anyone's going to call maintenance, it would be you."

"I agree."

"Yeah."

The wind was starting to die down a bit. It was more like a cold breeze at that point, so the rain wasn't blowing in their faces anymore. Patton perked up: "Well, I'm all better now! We should go back inside before we become a  _ pops _ -icle." 

This time, Damien snorted. 

"One last thing, Patton."

The ghost whimpered under his breath: "Yes?"

"You do know you don't have to treat us like we're made of glass. Right?"

Patton blinked. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, earnestly.

"Me. And Virgil. Remy, too. You don't have to keep quiet about everything. If you feel like you need someone to talk to…"

"Oh, don't be silly!" he laughed, but there was not a single trace of joy in it: "I've got nothing to talk about. If I did, I would tell you. Like I said,sometimes I just gotta say everything that comes up. You know?"

"Patton."

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to lie to me."

The ghost looked down. There was the beginning of a smile on his face, which quickly grew to a large grin: "Well thank you!" he chirped, then, more seriously, added: "But seriously, can we take this inside? You're going to freeze and I'm getting very worried."

He would allow it, he decided. They left the chill of the wind behind them and sat in the living room instead.

And, just as expected, as soon as his blood started to flow to his face again, his scar flared up with a searing, itching pain that made him secretly regret insisting so much on staying outside. Not that he would ever tell Patton. Not that he needed to.

The ghost was quiet. There was something on his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Damien joked. He didn’t have a penny. Or maybe he did.

Patton didn’t answer. He decided to bargain.

“Let’s make a deal.” he proposed, and caught the ghost’s curious sidelong glance in the corner of his eye; “A secret for a secret. No lies, no cheating, think of it as a bonding exercise if it helps.”

The other made a noise that was more or less indescribable, but that had an uncanny similarity to the whimper of a dog. He was considering it. He was a somewhat curious soul at heart, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, and Damien knew that very well. 

“No lies?”

“No lies.”

He bit his lip. “Only if you go first.” he finally agreed.

“Fair. I did suggest it.” he sighed, before shifting to adjust his position on the armchair to lean left. He shot a glance at Patton. He was about to reveal something that only his parents, his oldest friends, Virgil and Nathan knew, and he hoped he wasn’t going to regret it. “My name…” he started, gingerly, “It’s… not actually Damien.”

Patton blinked, clearly caught off-guard: “It isn’t? But then what-” he cut himself off and looked the other way, perhaps feeling he was being too pushy.

Damien chuckled humourlessly: “It’s fine, you can ask. Damien is my preferred name. And also my middle name. I changed it.”

“Well, then it  _ is  _ your name.”

Okay, that was unexpected. “What?”

Patton smiled: “Let me tell you something, kiddo. Let me tell you why your preferred name  _ is _ your name. A few years ago, Roman brought someone home. A very nice kid, it didn’t last very long but they stayed friends and Anton was such a joy to have around. And one day, I brought them out for ice cream, because they were just 14 and I really didn’t want them going around alone in the evening. And one moment Anton is smiling and he’s bickering about ice cream flavours with Roman, and the next he’s freaking out, looking at something outside. Well, someone. Let’s just say she looked much happier to see him than he was to see her. And she called him Anna, and I’d never seen Anton look so upset. As soon as we were in the car, he started crying and he apologized for not telling me that his  _ real name _ was Anna, and Roman was doing his best, but he was just so upset. And you know what I said?”

“What did you say?”

“I said  _ you’ve got nothing to apologize for, Anton _ . And he smiled.” Patton grinned, “He asked me if I meant it. He calmed down a bit and by the time we got home he was feeling a lot better. Anton was the name he wanted to go by, so Anton was his real name.”

Damien lost any interest he had in revealing his birth name. 

“Your preferred name is not a lie.” he shrugged, “It’s just your name.”

“Huh.”

“And…” Patton sighed, “And it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

Damien couldn’t answer him. It was hardly fair to make him spill his guts when his secret wasn’t really a secret, but he  _ was  _ getting what he wanted from the start, wasn’t he?

He nodded.

“Alright…” Patton bit his lip, “I don’t know if this counts as a secret, but this is what was on my mind.”

“I’ll take it.”

He took a moment to start. 

“When you moved in, we… I wanted you out. Everything you did felt like an invasion. Everytime you left I kinda hoped you wouldn’t come back.”

He seemed to realize how bad that sounded and immediately rectified his statement: “Oh, not that… I mean, I didn’t want you to get hurt, just… move away.”

“I should hope so.”

“Yeah… I, uh… I don’t know. I was stressed. And I can’t even begin to tell you how things got when Virgil saw us. It got better and worse all at once.”

“What do you mean?”

“On one hand, I was happy for Roman. I… look, he’d been lonely.  _ Very _ lonely. And I could see that Virgil had been lonely too, so…”

“Mh.”

“Not that- not that I’m blaming you for that!” he clarified. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture he had very probably picked up from his husband: “Oh, it came out wrong. I promise, I’m not trying to blame you for anything.”

“I know.”

“I-”

“That’s your mistake.” Damien mumbled, but dismissed any attempts by Patton to talk about that and encouraged the ghost to continue.

After a sidelong glance, he complied: “Anyway, the bad part is that Remus also became very active the moment he realized Virgil could see him. And I was worried. I... “ his voice cracked for a moment, “I almost lost Roman. I don’t know if you ever knew but… I was scared, he- you know exorcism, you saw that, but he was so pale, a… and there was… water everywhere, and... “ 

“Patton.” 

The ghost’s head snapped up at the interruption: “What?”

“You’re soaking up the couch.” Damien observed, pointing at the growing puddle of icy water all around Patton. He felt clumps of his hair tickle his cheeks, cold and wet, just like everything around him was starting to become. He realized it then. He felt water in his lungs but, without the need to breathe, it hardly mattered. 

"Oh- oh goodness, I'm sorry…" he mumbled, standing from his spot on the couch: "I don't know what came over me."

"I do."

"What?"

"Patton…" he sighed, "Memories are a powerful thing. When something hurts you,  _ badly _ , and I'm sure you never want to feel like that again, it leaves a trace. This…" he gestured vaguely in his direction, "...is you, feeling those feelings all over again. This is that trace. And there's nothing wrong with that. And parent fear, I mean…" he scoffed, "You're not alone there. I mean, I had these nightmares…"

He tapered off into silence, realizing a bit too late how close he'd come to oversharing. But, instead of the requests for clarification he'd expected from Patton, he got a different question.

"You had nightmares too?"

The question was ambiguous, to say the least, so he decided to answer appropriately: "Doesn't everyone?"

"No, I mean…" the ghost shook his head: "Nightmares about Virgil. About him dy… getting hurt." 

_ And we'll just ignore that correction _ .

"Well, yes. Like I said, parent fear. Why do you ask?"

Patton twisted the sleeve of his cardigan nervously: "Well, uh… it's silly. It's just…"

Damien was sure that if the ghost had needed to breathe, he would have been gasping for air. His lips were locked tight and his hands were twisting more nervously than ever.

"It's just… I used to get these nightmares when Roman was about to turn 15. Of water,  _ cold _ water, and of him… he dr… mh… well…"

"Drowned."

"Yeah. And I couldn't help him."

Damien raised his brow: "Do you think they might have been prophetic dreams?"

"No!" Patton exclaimed, "God, no! And I'm certainly not saying yours are, either. I'm sure it was nothing."

"I know. My nightmares are impossible." he said, calmly.

It seemed to confuse Patton slightly: "How so?"

He smiled sadly: "Because Nathan is in them."

"Oh."

"And besides, he would never act the way he does in those dreams. Never."

In the following silence, he could practically  _ hear _ the question that kept echoing in Patton's brain, but he elected to ignore it. "I think I'm safe for now." he declared.

The ghost nodded. He looked a little better than when he'd first seen him standing in the rain, but there was still something on his mind. Something  _ big _ . 

"Patton Maitland. I don't know your middle name. Pretend I used your full name." he mumbled, and the ghost's eyebrows rose steadily with a mixture of amusement and concern. Curiosity boiled up in Damien's stomach.

Damien caved: "What  _ is _ your middle name?"

"It's uh… it's David."

"Patton David Maitland. What is bothering you?"

Patton blinked. 

"The… storm?" he attempted, smiling awkwardly.

"Nice try. Come now, friend. The sooner you spill the beans, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Patton made a high-pitched noise that he recognized as a distress signal. Hopefully it wouldn't attract anyone's attention. 

"I'm just saying. I feel like there's something you really want to tell me about. Well…" Damien settled against the back of the armchair, "I am  _ aaaaall _ ears. Spill, old boy."

When his prompting was met with more incoherent noises, he pushed on: "Come on. There's something heavy on your chest. You wanna talk about it. It probably has to do with your family, which is why you don't want to tell them. Virgil's too young. You don't feel like Remy would understand. So if you still wanna talk, I'm-"

" _ Imsorryaboutyourhusband _ !!!"

The living room fell silent. 

Patton shrunk back uncomfortably into the couch, which was by that point completely soaked in dirty river water and smelled like the storm. Damien blinked: "Excuse me?"

It was hard to keep that edge of cold aggression out of his voice. He was still learning to do the whole…  _ talking... _ thing. He certainly hadn't expected Patton to bring it up, much less in the context of things he was ashamed to admit.

The ghost took an airless breath: "I'm sorry. About your husband. I… I'm sorry, Damien. I truly  _ do  _ think you have it worse than me. I died with Logan."

Something stabbed Damien's heart from the side.

"Knowing what I know now, I couldn't have asked for a better deal. I can't imagine…" he bit his purple lip, "I can't imagine outliving him. And the way you did, I… I respect you, Damien. You're a much stronger man than I can ever hope to be."

Silence filled the room once more. Only for a second. A brief, precious second of anticipation, sadness, pride, uncertainty, swirling around their heads in a veritable maelstrom of unhinged, raw emotion, which threatened to drag them deep into the abyss of grief should they linger too long. Patton dispersed the storm immediately.

"Well, that's about enough sharing for one night, huh kiddo? I'm beat!" he laughed, mirthlessly.

For once, Damien agreed.

In the attic, Logan calmly picked up a book and put his glasses back on. Ready to pretend he hadn't heard them.

Patton didn't need to know. What he needed was to vent and, thanks to Damien, he had crossed that off his list. Logan leaned back against his chair, flipping the page just as his husband walked in.

"How's the weather?" he asked.

Patton let himself fall against the arm of the chair (and, subsequently, Logan's shoulder) with a contented sigh.

"You were right, honey." he smiled: "I feel better now." 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> INFO ABOUT THE AU  
> 1\. Virgil is Lydia, Damien is Charles and their surname is Webb  
> 2\. Remus is Beetlejuice  
> 3\. Married Logicality are Roman's parents and also the Maitlands. All three died by falling into a river.  
> 4\. Roman almost got exorcised, which in my interpretation is basically drowning aaaaall over again. Poor kid.  
> 5\. Remy is Delia but never ended up marrying Damien as they broke off the engagement. He still lives with them and they're good friends.
> 
> \-------  
> I DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH I NEEDED THIS FRIENDSHIP UNTIL THE NEW EPISODE CAME OUT OK
> 
> And if there's anyone that can coax Patton into venting (which let's be honest, he desperately needs) it's Janus.  
> Who probably changed his name on account of Roman style reactions on his classmates' part.  
> Everyone needs a hug here.
> 
> As mentioned, this is sort of a prequel to a story I'm writing. Not sure when that comes out, but it's coming :3
> 
> Leave a comment if you love these two as much as I do.
> 
> -Cass


End file.
